


sharkpuppy ; stenbrough

by JacquesSays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Bill Denbrough is a Mess, Bill Denbrough-centric, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Eventual Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Stanley Uris, Guitarist Richie Tozier, M/M, Mike Hanlon Isn't Homeschooled, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Bill Denbrough/Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier is His Own Warning, Richie Tozier is a Good Friend, Sassy Stanley Uris, Slow Burn, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacquesSays/pseuds/JacquesSays
Summary: "it's not simple, being your friend again,"in which bill starts a band with richie and ends up trying to mend his broken friendship with stan and eddie, but his stupid feelings for stan weren't helping.also dogs and birbs are involved!sharkpuppy au ; band au ; stenbrough-centricother ships: reddie, benverly
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	1. stanley uris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bill is being philosophical about crushes, love and past friendships.
> 
> richie tozier wants to shred his "talent"
> 
> and someone brought some trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STENBROUGH RIGHTS !!!!!! AAAAARRGGHH
> 
> also sharkpuppy au because i fucking love the concept of bill and richie being two best friend dorks who wanna start a band together ???

The first time Bill had a crush on someone was in middle school. It was on Beverly Marsh, the prettiest girl in Mr. Johnson's class. She was one of the tallest girls in their grade and had the biggest smile. Her red hair was much brighter than Bill's and the freckles all over her skin looked like stars in the night sky.

She knows that weird bird poem by Edgar Allan Poe and would always win in several games during recess. She'd have dirt smudged across her face and would probably lick your arm if you try telling her that it's disgusting. She'd laugh and give you the middle finger and Bill thought she was absolutely perfect.

That's why he felt extremely ecstatic when they were both casts as Romeo and Juliet in their school play. The whole third grade had teased him about it, Richie told him to get some condoms (because he obviously _knew_ what he was talking about) and Eddie smacking him in the head.

He was dumb and young and thought it would be cool and brave to kiss her. It was a quick peck on the lips and Beverly's eyes widened afterward, she stuttered her next lines before regaining her composure and continued giving her best performance. The whole show sucked the but the little kiss was it's best moments, from what he heard from his classmates anyway.

But that was just it. A crush in middle school. Something that could easily fade through the years, and it did.

But the first time Bill actually fell in love with someone was in kindergarten. That's where he met his best friends, Richie, Eddie...Stanley. _Stan_. _Stan the Man._

Stanley Uris, the little Jewish boy across the street who likes to keep count of things and despises the unnecessary creases in his polo shirt.

He was shy to strangers, refusing to speak to them unless someone else introduced the two together much formally. But when he is with his friends he wouldn't stop talking about birds or instantly criticize anything Richie was about to say.

He had tight curls that looked like spaghetti noodles and he had a nose that Bill constantly liked to poke. He was much paler than Bill but had a broader frame. His eyes were the average brown but whenever the sun hits it, it looked like a pool of honey. His voice was beautiful to hear as well, it would constantly go high at random times and he'd mutter things like _everything has a pair_ because that's what his OCD tells him to.

Even though Richie was Stanley's first friend, he and Bill were always stuck together like glue. Bill taught Stan how to ride on a bike, even letting him try on Silver (he never lets anyone on Silver, _ever_ ). The Jewish boy would fall, almost crashing Silver into a tree, if it were someone else Bill would scream at them. The redhead would rush over to his friend and panic, he'd try and carry Stan or put bird bandaids on the scratches on his knees.

Stan always invited Bill (and only Bill) whenever his family would go on summer vacation in Long Island. The Uris family owns a small beach house, it was a very peaceful place but whenever Bill goes with it turns into such a fun chaos even Rabbi Uris would join in with their shenanigans. Bill would always fall off the boat Rabbi Uris would rent, Stan would laugh at him but will quickly go quiet as his father scolds him, helping Bill out of the salty waters.

Stan held his hand during the moments Bill would lock himself in his room, waiting for Georgie's return. His curly-haired friend would sneak in his room, a tradition that stuck within the four friends whenever one is feeling down. He'd show him pictures of birds he had seen in his latest birdwatching adventures with his father, Bill always wanted to go with but Stan says it will only make him fall asleep. Bill denies that, knowing full well that he'd never be bored of Stanley Uris.

So it instantly hurt him when Stanley started to drift off of their friendship circle when they started high school. It was something bound to happen, something Bill hated that he knew. Stan started to hang out with the pride sons of Derry, the baseball team, as he became one of the best pitchers in town. His piano lesson was increasing in amounts of hours that he couldn't find any time to spend with Bill and their friends during Sunday. Eddie quickly soon followed his steps, hanging out with student government officers and the track team, for reasons unknown to the redhead.

That's why they fought in freshman year, during Greta Keene's annual Halloween party. The four of them wore ridiculously, store-bought Power Ranger onesies. But Stan soon wandered off to hang with the rest of the baseball team and Eddie got dragged by Greta's friends. Bill and Richie were outside Keene's front yard, feeling absolutely out of place among their peers.

Stan came over to them an hour later, slightly drunk, and teased them about trying to ger a little tipsy. Bill knew that this Stan was different, he hates alcohol. He refuses just as Richie looks at the Blue Power Ranger concerned, he then leaves to go find Eddie. Bill tried telling Stan to stop, it started out as a playful bicker between the two until Bill snapped and called Stan out about his lack of time between them. A verbal fight broke in between them and it broke Bill's heart at every word that spills out of Stanley's mouth or the constant time's Stan would wipe his eyes, suppressing the tears that dared to come out. Bill sobbed the entire time.

Their fight created a huge crack in their friendship circle. Stanley didn't hang out with them the day after the party. Richie would constantly try to act that everything was still the same until Eddie gets fed up with his forced positivity and officially leaves the two for good.

It happened two years ago and Bill still feels shitty about it.

He feels incredibly shitty that he keeps zoning out of Richie's rant about his late night adventures. He probably should start focusing on what's currently happening, not get distracted with Stanley, his attention returns to his friend, who's trying to stop himself from laughing too much.

"...so Mr. Raynard tells daddio that he should check out the town's lost and found-," Richie bursts in giggles, Bill stares at him blankly. "-Check out Derry's Lost and Found because they have a really nice _wig collection-,_ "

"Darling, your father still has hair," Mrs. Tozier says behind the reception desk, her attention focused on a sheet containing information about the new stray that walked into the rescue center, she sips on her morning coffee.

Richie laughs again, the puppy she was reading about started to lick his hands. The bug-eyed teen rubs its head. "Yes, but you should really see what's on top, Mom, his strands are like holding on to _dear_ _life_."

Bill watches the interaction between mother and son, a small smile appearing on his face at the sight. He starts petting Corrie, the smallest munchkin kitten in the rescue center. She lets out a soft purr but immediately bites on to Bill's fingertips. The redhead hisses at the cat and she hisses back, "S-stop that," He tells her, placing her back inside a fenced corner of the rescue center's lobby area. Corrie sprints along the fake grass carpet to be with other kittens.

"Anyways-wait what are they doing?" Richie abruptly stands up, making the puppy jump out in panic. Bill watches him walk over to the front door and walking back. "Mom, they're putting up posters again."

Maggie groans, spilling her coffee on the desk, but doesn't make any further move to Richie's problem, "I'm tired dealing with them, can you and Bill go and tell them to fuck off?"

Richie pulls up Bill from his seat and together they both went out of the town's only animal rescue center. The September breeze made Bill wish he'd taken his allergy pills as he instantly sneezes when it hit his nose.

Richie walks over to the sides, where a teenage boy was hunched over the corner, taping a sheet of paper on to the fading red brick wall. "Hey!" Bill calls out, the boy turning around rather quickly.

He had a flushed face and widened eyes, "I'm sorry!" He raises both his hands in the air, guilty.

"Hey we don't allow campaign posters in this area," Richie tells the kid, crossing his arms together to look intimidating. It worked, seeing as the loud-mouthed Calculus enthusiast was six feet tall and had a complexion that can be categorized under vampires. The boy lets out a whimper he utters out another apology.

"It's-it's not a campaign poster, I swear!" The boy squeaks, trying to hold on to the stacks of papers in his hands. "It's for a charity event happening at the new diner, Captain Rock."

"Ch-charity event?" Bill asks, eyebrows raised.

"Technically a music competition, a battle of the bands, that sort of thing. All the money earned will be going to whatever charity the winner wants," The boy beams. "My mom wants to be in a band someday but she's too busy with the diner stuff, that's why she's handling this event...er, sorry I'm rambling. I'm Ben, by the way."

"You g-go to our school, r-right?" Bill asks and the kid nods his head. The redhead offers him a smile, "We'll l-let you off this t-time."

"Yeah," Richie says, "We're in a band too, we're probably going to join."

The redhead knits his brows at him, "W-we're not-," Richie glares at him, Bill shuts up.

Ben's eyes widened in excitement, "Really? That's so good! We have a few pre-shows before the actual event, so the people will know what's going to be in it, it'd be really good to have you guys play in them. Our contact is on the poster, give us a call if you want to be a part of it."

Bill tugs at Richie's striped sleeves, "Richie w-what are you-," The lankier teen removes his hands off, giving Bill another glare before looking back at Bill with a bright grin. " _We'd_ be happy to apply! See you, Benny!" Richie gives the boy a wave and pulls Bill back into the shop.

Bill glares at him just as the glass entrance door closes shut. "R-richie what was that?" Bill exclaims, bewildered.

His friend shrugs, "Bill, we have a _band_. We can play for them, it's on our bucket list." He coos at Bill, who shakes his head at him.

"Dude, n-no. It's e-embarrassing."

"Eh, sure, but if you're doing it with me so it pretty much cancels out. Basic math," Richie shrugs, "Come on, homie, I wanna show people what I'm actually worth, show them something cool"

"T-taking care of d-dogs are cool," Bill huffs. "Y-you're already worth a shu-shit ton of...uh _worth_."

"To you," Richie rolls his eyes. "Sure, I love dogs, man, but like...I wanna shred my talent."

"Talent?" Bill scoffs, his friend glares at him.

"Look, just one pre-show gig, we don't have to join the battle of the bands," Richie pleads, his eyes going wide and his lips turning into a pout. Bill hates this look, it doesn't even make his friend cute, but the effort that it takes... _UGH!_

"Fine," The redhead groans making Richie envelop him in a huge bear hug. Despite his friend's skinny frame, it felt like Bill's bones might pop out in the strong grip.

The day in the center went on like a drag. No new visitors went by today, making Bill bored out of his mind at the reception desk. As mentioned earlier, Bill was very fond of animals. He'd always begged his father for a greyhound or some badass breed when he was younger, his father always refused as he had an irrational fear of big dogs. That's why he decided to help out with the new rescue center Maggie Tozier was setting up. She was the town's only veterinarian, he was lucky to be friends with her son. So he volunteered, along with Richie.

Mr. Chips Animal Rescue Center was a safe place for Bill. His first time walking in here was after the fight he had with Stan. He knew he couldn't go home, he can't let Georgie see him bawl out his eyes or have to explain to his mom he went home early. Richie insisted they'd come here, just to smoke out in the back. They didn't, after Bill sees the animals in the little makeshift yard in the middle of the night. All sleeping in their wooden houses, Bill felt happy just for a moment.

_Quand l'amour veut parler, la raison doit se taire._

Bill writes it down rather lazily, his eyes glancing over at the small translation with a scoff. His French teacher is obsessed with romance it's like a stereotype. He continues on writing the next phrase while his earbuds are blasting some the Beaches song, something about a t-shirt. He loved it. His fingers on his left hand were tapping to the beat on the coffee-stained desk. Even with the muffled laughing from Richie behind the thin walls were drowned out in the lobby's comfortable silence. Bill was at peace.

Until the front door opens. The soft chime of the tiny bell rung out across the mostly empty room, Richie was outside playing with the big dogs and Maggie is inside tthe other room, the vet clinic. Corrie meows at the person walking in, Bill continues writing finishing off just the last bit of another proverb.

"Bill?"

He drops his pen realizing the voice, he's heard it before, usually over a crowd speaking or personal but with cracks and odd pitches. His green eyes widened, he slowly lifts his head, seeing Stanley.

Stan looks as awkward inside the place Bill works at. His face was flushed and sweaty, like he just came from a jog. A bike helmet was strapped on his head and a bulky duffel bag sat beside his feet. He was carrying a shoebox, his fingers keep tapping on its sides gently, but more fidgety.

"Fuck," Bill utters out loud earning a confused look on Stan's.

"W-what?" He falters but shakes his head afterwards. Bill watches his face contort in several states of worry. He has never seen Stan like this before, only once, when his test score in Math was a big F in sixth grade. Stan shifts in his place as he heaves in a breath, "I have an emergency."


	2. shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bill and his impulsiveness starts stirring shit

Bill lifts the lid of the shoebox immediately. Inside was a hastily makeshift nest made out of tissue paper and some leaves, laying on it were three injured birds that Bill didn't knew the breed of. One was obviously bigger than the two (he suspects it is the mother) and had a broken wing, he didn't understand what was wrong with its chicks but they were crying really bad.

  


He turns his attention back to Stan, pressing his lips into a line. "I'll t-take them to M-Maggie, you can t-take a seat or p-play with the kittens." He motions over at where Corrie and her little gang were gathered before placing the lid back on the box.

  


Stan finally unfreezes and exhales a long breath. He rubbed his arm before turning around.

  


As he opens the door to Maggie's clinic, in the corner of his eyes, he can see Stan hesitantly walk over to the fenced corner, slowly putting his hand inside to try and make some friends. Bill almost tripped at the sight but soon caught himself, remembering his duties.

  


_Oh god, he still has feelings for him_.

  


Maggie looks up from her small desk in the corner, her eyebrows knit together as Bill hands her a shoebox. She opens it and a small gasp comes out, "Oh my god," She says as she stands up and placed the box over at an...operating table? Bill doesn't know.

  


"Helena's out of town with her cousin," She utters, starting inspecting the birds with care, "Call Richie, he can help."

  


Bill nods his head and turns to fetch his friend but the clinic door immediately opens and in came the messy-haired giant. "Why the fuck is Urine Boy in the lobby making baby noises at the kittens?" Richie bursts, already closing the door.

  


"Richie, dear!" His mother calls out, her attention not removed from the two chicks. "Come get a few bandages in that cabinet over there, also apply this stuff over the mother's wing."

  


Richie rushes over to his mother but gives a look at Bill for an answer. "Stan b-brought the birds, s-says it's an emergency," The redhead explains.

  


"Oh, Stan's here?" Maggie hums, "You should keep him company out there, Bill. I would send Richie, but I need him right now."

  


She didn't know, of course, he and Richie were too scared to tell her. Imagine telling Maggie that her favorite godson doesn't like hanging out with her actual son anymore, it would be heartbreaking. Nobody wants to hurt Maggie Tozier's feelings, ever.

  


The redhead nods, though a furious blush spreads on his face. Richie gives him a look of pity but he quickly returns his attention back to the birds.

  


Bill watches Stan from the corner, discreetly. He averts his gaze whenever Stan looks up, placing them on his French homework or the animal paintings he did on the walls.

  


Stan remains quiet. Well, not really quiet, he keeps talking to the kittens but he's not saying anything to Bill.

  


Which was good, Bill thinks, less awkward...or not. The atmosphere feels so thick but you can cut through it even with a dull knife.

  


He kept on looking at Stan, quickly observing his fingers lacing together every once in a while. He pulls at his shirt collar or continuously tap on his knee. His brown eyes would watch the digital clock above Bill's head, whenever he does the redhead would look away again, but it feels like he always gets caught looking.

  


Bill breathes in, he opens his mouth, "St—," He gets cut off just as Maggie bursts outside the clinic door with the three birds on a little basket, a soft-looking bed tucked underneath them. He watches Stan standing up, going over to Maggie with the first smile Bill saw him crack up today.

  


"Stanley!" She gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, a red lipstick stain left behind. She gives him a big hug after placing the basket in front of Bill on the desk. "It's good to see you, these birds really owe you their lives, they would've been dead in an hour if you didn't found them. I suggest leaving them here at the center for a few weeks, the mother still needs time to heal and her babies are malnourished."

  


"Thank you, auntie, I'll visit them every Friday."

  


_Oh, so you have time for some birds instead of us?_

  


"How I've missed you! How come you'd never go to dinner with us anymore? Georgie misses you and Eddie."

  


Stan blushes, Bill observes. He shakes his head at her, "Sorry, auntie, but I've been busy with baseball practice and we've been training non-stop with the Mathletes," He explains in such a way that it was practiced, "Sonia also has strict curfews these days after Eddie became vice-president in school."

  


Maggie rolls his eyes at him, "Oh, hush, you should join us at dinner tomorrow. I miss cooking your favorite meal—,"

  


_"—coconut curry tofu_ ," the two voiced in unison making them both laugh.

  


Stan shakes his head, "I shouldn't, I don't want to be a bother—,"

  


"You should," Bill finds himself cutting in. He pulls at his ring finger underneath the desk. The curly-haired boy looks at him in disbelief, "It would be nice to catch up on things."

  


What was he doing? What was he doing?

  


Stanley replies with a smile but the way his eyes look at him tells Bill that he wasn't happy with the idea, "If you insist," He turns back to Maggie, "I do have a free schedule tomorrow, maybe I could pull in Eddie with me."

  


Maggie clasps her hands together, "Joy!" She exclaims with a beam, "We'll see you there at six. No need to bring anything, it'll be just like the old times."

  


Just like old times, Bill and Richie are trapped inside the latter's room, which is also the Tozier family's poolhouse. Maggie and he had a short fight before after she realized how lazy her son has become (Richie quits marching band during sophomore year and he keeps skipping classes), so she sent him packing up his stuff from his old room and made him live inside their pool house.

  


To be honest, it's much better than Richie's old room. It was bigger and had a personal bathroom and had a bunk bed, always perfect whenever Bill wanted an escape from home. Maggie doesn't seem to understand what punishment meant, but it actually worked, seeing as Richie is heavily invested with volunteer work at the rescue center and would only skip his classes when he feels extremely shitty (it happens once every two weeks, but Maggie doesn't keep count.)

  


The two were waiting to be called by Richie's mother while also trying to devise a plan on how to endure any awkward moments.

  


"We are so fucked, Denbrough," Richie hisses at him, "I can't believe you _insisted_!"

  


Bill glares at him, "I'm s-sorry, okay! It just slipped, he k-kept looking at me weird a-a-a-and Maggie keeps s-saying that s-she misses him and I f-felt bad." _Not_ _true_.

  


"You're still hung up on him, aren't you?"

  


"No," _Definitely a lie._

  


Richie throws his hands in the air, frustrated. He starts pacing around his room, avoiding the obstacle course of edgy punk band tees and neon green bandana.

  


Bill shrinks into the dull green beanbag, he squints his eyes tight. "Look, c-can we just-," He flails his arms around, trying to convey the message better. "Eat tonight. N-no talking, j-just answer y-yes or no."

  


"If they're going to ask about anything going on between the four of us?"

  


"J-just joke around. It'll wear them o-out," Bill looks picks his phone out of the pocket and curses under his breath. He leaves the comfort of the beanbag and hooks his arm around Richie's, "Let's get inside, it's already six."

  


Bill should've expected Stan to be wearing a suit. Who _doesn't_ wear a suit during dinner at your "friend's" house?

  


Actually, it wasn't a suit, Bill was just being bitchy.

  


Stan showed up wearing a brown Argyll vest and a pale blue shirt underneath, his hands tucked in the pockets of the khaki pants that fit him perfectly. His hair was gently combed down but his curls were out and about in a messy, sexy kind of way. He looked unbothered at the doorstep, his eyes bored and his lips in a tight line.

  


Bill hates how he can make the college professor look absolutely _hot_ without even trying.

  


Eddie is there, behind Stan. He looked fine to Bill, a gray hoodie and some cargo shorts. His typical wardrobe. Except his face was flushed red and his eyebrows downturned as he keeps hissing at Stan as Bill leads them into the Tozier's dining room. Good thing he was as underdressed as Eddie or he might die out of embarrassment as he walks beside Stan.

  


The Tozier men were already sitting in their respective seats, with Wentworth Tozier situated at the head of the table. Richie sat next to his father's right, hands propped up the table and face planted on his palms, he was blowing his bangs up in boredom.

  


Maggie appears just as Stan and Eddie greet Wentworth with a small wave and ignoring Richie. She was carrying a steaming dish on a tray and a couple of other side dishes.

  


"Let me help you, Mrs. Tozier," Eddie rushes over to grab the tray, he sets it on the table and continues on with the other dishes on it. Bill sees Richie flush at the small gesture, the paler teen averts his eyes away from him, guilty.

  


Maggie coos at Eddie, "Shush, you always call me Mags, why the sudden formalities?"

  


The short boy's face reddened, he squeaks out, "Nothing," and rushes over to take a seat next to a blushing Richie. Clearly, he didn't intend that seeing as his brown eyes widened after planting his rear on the gray-cushion.

  


He didn't get to move away though, as Stan takes the seat opposite to him and Bill reluctantly takes the one beside the Jewish teen. _Shit_.

  


The redhead stares at Richie as if asking for help. He can feel Stan looking away from him, putting a bit more distance in the space between them. Richie stares back at Bill in the same frustration, looking at Eddie to indicate the same position that they were in, he was just about to open his mouth but Wentworth had started laughing out of nowhere.

  


"Can you believe this?" Richie's father barks out, he starts pointing at each of the teenagers with the use of a fork. "I feel like I just gave birth to two wonderful children!"

  


" _Jesus_ _Christ_ , dad," Richie mutters under his breath as Maggie raises a brow at him in surprise, he usually goes along with his father's jokes.

  


"What? I've missed these dorks!" Wentworth stabs his fork into his steak, making a harsh sound of metal hitting against a ceramic platter. "So, what have two you been up to that keeps you from visiting us?"

  


Eddie smiles a soft smile, "Well, student gov has practically drained my schedule. Even my mom is threatening me to quit if it weren't for the fact that I might need credits for college."

  


"Pfft," Richie scoffs, earning a glare from the short brunette. " _College_."

  


Eddie furrows his brows, "Yeah, what's so fucking wrong at that, Trashmouth?" Richie only replies with a wink before shoving a spoonful of vegan curry in his mouth. The other boy huffs and rolls his eyes, but his face was flushed pink.

  


Maggie laughs at their exchange and Bill honestly wonders how she and her husband had not noticed the hot tension in the room. She then places a hand on Stan's shoulder, "And you, dear?"

  


Bill glances at Stan through half-lidded eyes, he'd occasionally bring them down to his platter of steak but attention still focused on the person beside him. Stan shifts in his seat as he smiles to himself with pride. "Well," He starts, relaxing his shoulders and straightened his back, "The baseball team will be going out of town this year, hopefully, it would be frequent. We have a game set for next Saturday against some high school in New England."

  


As Stan continues talking about his adventures of being a sports person, Bill can't help trail down to look at his arms. The cotton sleeves made sure to wrap themselves nicely around his biceps, despite being quite lean, there were muscles that defined how good of a pitcher Stan was. Oh, how Bill wishes Stan would throw him to oblivion to he end his pining misery.

  


Stan produces another smile, he's talking about Mathletes this time and how he absolutely hates every single thing about it, but his story about Betty Ripsom's obsession with how there should be a harem anime about math immediately falters when he caught Bill's ocean eyes fully fixated on him.

  


Bill immediately averts his eyes away and accidentally steps on Richie's foot. "Ow!" The boy protested making everyone else look at him in confusion.

  


Luckily, Eddie managed to butt in, an excited grin on his face, "Stan, you should tell them about Mrs. Johnson's cheese accident during your piano recital!"

  


Maggie raises a brow at Stan, "You can play the piano?" She questions, immediately interested. On the side, Bill can see Eddie drop his grin at the sudden change of subject. He returns his attention back to Maggie and Stan, not catching the sudden change of Eddie's expression or the hands underneath the table.

  


"Yes, I have been playing since I was eight, I think," Stan tells her. "It's not really that great though, my piano teacher hates when I play anything that isn't classical and she only teaches me Bach and Beethoven."

  


"You know, Richie and Bill have a band," The two mentioned immediately choke on their food as Wentworth pipes in. "They have a gig at that new diner, what was it called again?"

  


"Captain Rock," Maggie offers with a smile.

  


"Yes, yes that's the one! Anyways, you should join them, it would probably balance out their emo bullshit."

  


"It's not bullshit!" Richie gapes at his dad in defense, Eddie snorts at the action. "And we're not _emo_. We're alternative rock—,"

  


"I thought we agreed it's indie," Bill disagrees.

  


"What's the difference?" Eddie queries suddenly interested. "They all sound the same to me."

  


The two taller teens looked at him in shock, as if taking offense of his words. "Of course you'll think that," Richie rolls his eyes and Bill kicks his foot underneath the table. His blue eyes flashed a small warning towards the gray ones behind glasses.

  


Stan suddenly bursts out laughing, all eyes turned to him confused. He quiets down immediately and a blush creeps up on his face, "Sorry, but, how could you even put a genre to your band when you barely even started?" He retorts, "Do you even write your own songs?"

  


He's mocking them, of course. Bill knows that look on Stanley, the condescending smirk and his right eyebrow raised a little, his eyes sparked wanting a challenge. Stan was always competitive, even if he denies it, he loves challenges and when he wins this aura of smugness will flow throughout the room, it's the type of smug that doesn't hurt but makes you envious of.

  


He finds himself accepting Stan's challenge, "You should probably join us then, if you're so damn curious about it," The redhead feels a force slamming down on his foot, he suppresses his shout of pain and gives a glare at Richie who returns it but with much more force.

  


_What are you doing?_ His eyes seemed to say, Bill replies with a shrug trying to be nonchalant. 

  


Stan was quiet at first, his brown eyes dart among the others in the room. The Tozier adults looked back at him with eagerness and excitement, Maggie bites her lips as Wentworth chews down his meal in quick chomps. Eddie and Richie had much more negative expressions, they were shaking their head no (Richie tries to hide his, in case his mother would see the protest).

  


The Jewish boy then returns his gaze at Bill,the smirk returned, now filled with more mischief, "No harm, right?" Stan answers with a shrug, shoving a spoonful of the coconut curry tofu with satisfaction.

  


Bill finds himself nodding along, avoiding the silent glare Richie sends him. "Yeah, no harm," He utters under his breath just as Maggie lets out a supportive cheer. He watches Stan relax in his seat, now moving on to another conversation Wentworth had brought up, eyes filled with victory.

  


He's in deep shit now.


	3. fuck n' roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill plays bass making Stan loose his mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bassists are the sexiest member of a band, no i do not take constructive criticism

Stanley is scared with the idea of getting in trouble with his father, but he loves loves _loves_ the thrill of doing it.

His father hated many things, he is the walking definition of the word _pessimism_. He hates tardiness, he hates loud noises, he hates undisciplined children and he will hate everything Stanley likes to do that they both don't commonly share (its mostly everything).

One of the many reasons why Stan had to drift from his happy, glorious childhood. He shouldn't blame his dad for all of it though, he was nice sometimes, he'd take him birdwatching and he even accepted—actually, the right word is _tolerated_ —his son for being gay.

But his father had been very strict after finding out his grades when he was fourteen. His Algebra was slipping bad, from an A- to an instant D, and Donald Uris is not happy with any letter below B+. He figured it was because his son kept spending his free days with his friends, Donald caught him once sneaking out of their home to go over at Richie's or somewhere suspicious.

He turned Stan's schedule into something more robotic, pushing more hours into his classical piano lessons and making him join a baseball workshop. Donald even forced Stan to join the Mathletes despite him not liking anything with an M-A-T-H in it. He was the reason why Stan couldn't hang out with his friends anymore. The reason why he keeps pushing down his feelings for Bill.

Stan loves the feeling of rebellion against his father. He feels exactly how a bird does when someone unlocks the bronze cage inside. His first act was going to Greta's Halloween party in freshman year, he left his house filled with the rage of losing another fight against his father. He drank burning alcohol, something he regrets until now.

His second act was talking to Bill, willingly. He much preferred this one better than the last, even with the idea of Bill hating him was fine with Derry's perfect Jewish boy. So he was extremely delighted with the idea of joining his band. 

Exactly what his father hates. His old friends, loud and hopefully explicit music, his son quitting Mathletes to sneak out for band practice and a boy he's been crushing on.

Luckily, Betty Ripsom (despite being weird as fuck) was his only friend on the team. She was a back-up member who was chosen to replace him, she convinced their coach to not tell anyone about Stan quitting. The teen boy just hopes his father wouldn't pop in to check up on them.

He sees one of the spare music rooms their school has in the second building. Richie had _convinced_ the teacher in charge of it to give it to them after class. Stan goes over to the cream-colored door and pulls it open with one hand, the other lifting his heavy keyboard. He peers his head inside and it feels like a headache.

Harsh banging from the snare courtesy of Beverly Marsh rings across the room. She looked absolutely bored out of her mind as she stares blankly at Richie, who was trying to talk to her but her constant beating on the drums was drowning out whatever story he was retelling.

Bill lies on two plastic chairs, his eyes closed shut, and earbuds plugged in his ears. His hands hold his old green bass, Stan remembers he got it as a Christmas gift from his grandma back when they were thirteen. His long, bony fingers played along the strings, occasionally slapping on them as if trying to find a nice beat.

Well, he certainly didn't thought about how he'd survive this. Maybe it's better if he'll push the growing blush on his cheeks further down and spit on it.

Stan walks inside silently, now realizing that he'd walked into a trap. Of course, he did. For someone who's supposed to be calculated and precise, he didn't really think out about his rebelling plan at all. Bill and Richie still aren't his friends and he barely knew Beverly, only that she and Bill used to date for three weeks in the summer when they were thirteen.

 _Fuck_ , he wished Eddie were here.

Beverly saw him when she averts her attention from Richie, she pulls out a wide grin at the sight of the teen awkwardly standing to the side. She throws her arms up in glee, "Fucking finally!" She exclaims, "Come on let's get this started, I don't want to listen to any more of Richie's melodramatic bullshit."

Bill and Richie turned to him. Stan gives them both a small wave, trying to be polite. Bill sits up and laces the bass guitar's straps around him before walking over to his official bandmates up on the small wooden platform in front of the whiteboard against the wall. Stan zips his keyboard's case in a slight hurry as he pulls out the cords and slings it over his shoulders, he lifts up the Yamaha keyboard with his arms and carries it over to an already set stand and proceeds with the rest of set-up. Just as he was about to stick his keyboard's electric plug in the socket behind Beverly's drum set when he finally notices the three pairs of eyes still staring at his back. His face erupted in pink shades, realizing how out of place he felt.

"What?" He didn't mean to snap but it did wake the trio up from their daze.

Richie shakes his head as a response while Beverly's cheeks blossomed pink, Bill looks down at his hand on his guitar's neck. The much brighter redhead clasped her hands together, drawing the attention to her. Stan lets out a sigh of relief as she starts talking, "Alright! Let's get this started! What do we do?"

"I think w-we should start with s-song choices," Bill answers, he then looks at Stan hesitantly, "Since you're new, t-tell us what you can p-play."

"Uh, anything that has the music sheet available online," Stan replies, straightening his olive green collar despite already being crisp and neat. "I can't compose anything though...creativity isn't my strongest suit." He mutters the last part under his breath, feeling sheepish at the thought.

Beverly gives him a smile, "It's cool, we're mostly going to do cover songs anyways," She assures him, "If we ever get to play an original song though, I can help you with composing."

Beverly used to be a part of Mrs. Johnson's after-school piano lesson program until she quits out of boredom last year. It was a perfectly good reason, the only thing exciting about the program was last summer's cheese accident during the recitals. Some brat apparently poured melted American cheese all over one of the piano keys of which Mrs. Johnson was about to perform. Needless to say, Stan found it exhilarating. He gave her a quiet _thank you_ just as Richie starts talking, now initiating his plans.

"Alright! I think we should start with a song, just to know what we're dealing with," His magnified eyes bounced across the room, observing everyone standing a bit awkwardly behind their instruments. "Um let's try Yellow-,"

"Can we not do Coldplay?" Beverly groans and Richie gasps at her. "I mean, they're cool and all but you ALWAYS play them and it doesn't suit your fucking voice, Tozier."

"I s-second that," Bill pipes up.

"How about Ocean Eyes?"

"NO," Both Richie and Bill glared daggers at Beverly who was her eyes at them.

Stan watches the three volley random songs he barely knows. He taps his foot, waiting rather impatiently at their nonsense bickering. Just pick one song _goddamnit!_ He forces a cough, "Bugbear," He deadpans once everyone stares at him again. "Chloe Moriondo. It's indie, right?"

Richie blinks and a grin appears in his face, "Since when did you start listening to Chloe? Wait, never mind let's just fucking start," He adjusts the microphone stand in front of him, setting it up to his height. His breath was amplified as soon as he turned the mic on, the grin on his face stretching up to his eyes, "I'm so excited, holy shit." His voice echoes through the speaker making Beverly and Bill chuckle.

The song starts with Bill and his bass, upbeat and catchy. He was bobbing his head softly to the beat, his tongue poking out at the corner of his lips.

 _"Being in this space has made me feel a bit more small and I'm not quite sure where I'm going next, I'll try to use a map but with directions I tend to be bad so I'll use GPS and pray for the best"_ Richie's slightly rougher voice enters and it momentarily caught Stan off guard, he looks down at his fingers and continued playing the keys.

 _"I've got so many years to flesh this out and be what I wanna be, b_ _ut it's confusing to say the least,"_ Then Bill turns around so his back is the only view Stan gets to have, his beat-up Converse sneakers kept bouncing every beat he plays. Stan notices that one shoe was untied and it irked him to stop and go over there to fix it himself. But he doesn't.

_"And oh whoa I just want you to know, whoa,"_

Bill looks up and caught Stan's eyes.

_"I feel so brain dead next to you. it's not like you intended to hurt me or make me feel that way,"_

His breath hitched a Bill returns him a cold blue-eyed stare, sending shivers down the Jew's spine.

_"And I'm not tryin' to complain but it just sucks to try and explain why I feel like this everyday,"_

Then Bill had the audacity to fucking smirk at him and his feelings emerged from his mind grave, dead set on revenge. He hit the wrong key and he noticed it easily. His left hand smashed on the keyboard, out of nowhere, making everyone suddenly stop. His eyes widened at what he did.

"FUCK!" Stan bursts out earning him three concerned looks.

He looks up at all of them, his eyes started to get wet at the inner corner, his brows furrowed and lips turned in a scowl. God, he felt pathetic. "I-I'm sorry," He falters dropping his hands down to his sides, he then shakes his head. "Shit, I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm leaving, I c-can't do this."

Nobody stops him storming out of the classroom.

Bill was suffocating. Being in that room was suffocating. Messing up the song was definitely not helping him. He shouldn't have left, it was only one mistake right? No, it wasn't. It wasn't just a mistake. He fucked it up. Just like he fucked up his dad's trust by skipping Mathletes. He fucked up by even talking to Bill. He should've just left the birds at the rescue center, he shouldn't stayed until Maggie invited him to dinner. He shouldn't be so fucking competitive that he'd accept the offer proposed by Wentworth. He should've just shut up and admire Bill from the back of AP US History and move on over a stupid seventh grade crush. He should've just-

"Stan," _Bill._

He wipes the tears that had managed to pour out, stops walking and turns around only to be mildly disappointed. It was Beverly. She removed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. "It's okay," She says and Stan wants to believe her.

"No it's not," Stan replies, "My OCD won't help with this. I'm supposed to be doing college-level calculus right now."

"Which sucks," Beverly snorts making Stan huff a short laugh, "Look, it's all alright if you mess up. This is only the first day after all, you'll get used to it. All of this is just for fun anyways, you can stop when we're done with the first gig next...next Friday,"

Stan looks at her again. She genuinely looked like she cares for him, despite not knowing that much about him. She's kind and understanding, Stan can tell with her doe eyes and pleading smile. He gives in, letting out a sigh.

"Fine," He sniffs.

"Great," She winks at him, making Stan tilt his head in confusion. "And please try and keep your eye-fucking down. Bill keeps it low-key, so you should too."

_Ah shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi mY NAME IS BILL DENBROUGH AND I CAN'T DO A GOOD ENDING


End file.
